


Enigma

by kuchiki977



Series: A High-Maintenance Servant But a Loyal Accomplice All the Same [2]
Category: Code Geass
Genre: F/M, I apologize if it's as painful to read as it was to write, fate au, my first attempt at lemon-like products
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchiki977/pseuds/kuchiki977
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He really doesn't understand her and he doesn't know why he wants to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Sorry it took so long! The lack of muse combined with a hellish amount of homework did not make for a good combo but here you go! I probably wouldn't have written a part two but yanzin2u's positive comment motivated me! Positive comments go a long way!

After their first battle she approached him.

Her swordsmanship and raw power had dazzled him. However, Archer was fairly skilled as well. He had done a number on her and now she was heavily injured. Despite her wounds, she eventually managed to decapitate Archer, but she ended up collapsing immediately afterwards. Her armor disappeared as well. He can't imagine how he would have gotten her home otherwise.

He grudgingly admits that his physical abilities are not the best, so he can't be blamed when he basically dumps her on the bed.

He would have put her on the couch but she was covered in blood and grime. Bedsheets can be changed, couch upholstery not so much. Besides, he supposed she deserved a softer surface to rest on for single-handedly clearing the first round of the war. If only he were stronger...

He was catching his breath when he suddenly had his world turned around and found himself staring at the ceiling. More than a little disoriented at the near whiplash, it took him a moment to get his bearings and realize that his servant must have pinned him on the bed. Said servant was currently sitting on his thighs and reaching for the belt buckle of his school uniform pants.

"What do you think you're _doing_?!" He squawked. 

She paused. Indifferent gold eyes stared into slightly panicked amethyst ones. "You're a seventeen-year-old boy and you can't figure out where this is going?" 

His cheeks flamed in embarrassment and outrage, "I _mean,_ how did _this,_ "he gestured between them, "come from the previous situation." It was technically a question but he made it sound as much like a statement as he could. Despite his precarious position, he was still the master and she, the servant.

She sighed as if she were the exasperated one and explained, "Well, I just fought in a battle, right?"

"Your point?"

"I need to recover." That only made him more confused.

"Then go to sleep." She didn't even reply. Her eyes clearly said 'you're an idiot.' He opened his mouth to snap at her for her impudence when he suddenly felt pressure on his crotch. 

He would later deny that he made any sort of noise resembling a squeak.

He attempted to push her off but unsurprisingly, she didn't even budge.  She rubbed him through his uniform pants and it sent waves of pleasure up his spine. He barely registered when she started talking again, "You see, child, I was blessed with an abysmal master like you, who isn't even capable of giving me the mana I need to recover through conventional means." Her tone was neutral but that only made him angrier. He was about to tell her who was the real disappointment when she slipped her hand into his underwear. Direct contact made concentrating difficult but he did his best to at least keep up with what she was saying.

"That means that we have to do it another way. Namely: intercourse." Her nonchalant tone made it seem as if she were discussing the weather. If his face wasn't already bright red, it certainly was now.

"Huh-" His sentence cut off with a choked noise when she brushed some of her hair behind her ear and her lips latched on to his neck.

After a few seconds, she leaned back and attempted to reassure him. "Not to worry. I have done this before and I assure you, it will feel quite good."

He somehow managed to verbalize, "that's not the problem!" 

"Then what is? Are my breasts too small for your tastes?"

 "That's not-"

"Ah, I don't suit your tastes at all? I'm sure you have a girl that interests you that you can think about during." From any other woman, it would have sounded a tad bitter but her tone and expression dared him to think of himself so highly.

"You're certainly pre-" he cut himself off at the last moment. That had been close. He had almost called her pretty to her face. Where had that even come from? Surely he didn't think about this insufferable spirit that way.

Sure, Lelouch thought that she was beautiful but it was from an objective perspective. He didn't much care for her cold personality. Long, lime green tresses had long fallen out of the knot they had been neatly threaded into and pooled at her waist. It looked silky and he had almost shamelessly ran his fingers through it on more than one occasion in just the week they had been together. He quickly got ahold of himself once he remembered her most recent scathing comment. Her piercing golden gaze was still intimidating but he refused to back down. When the full strength of it wasn't directed at him, he could admit her eyes were almost pretty.

As if she had heard his musings, her ministrations paused. He couldn't tell what she was thinking but he was able to regain enough rational thought to protest, "How about the fact that I don't want to-"

Lelouch was struck speechless. He had caught her gaze and found uncharacteristic sympathy in it. Lelouch had seen the look in her eyes a few times before. She always attempted to mask it with indifference when he looked her way but she wasn't quick enough. He had a feeling that she often looked at him like that when he wasn't looking. He hated being pitied but she seemed to know more about him than he would ever know about her. She knew his real name and his background but he couldn't even get an actual name out of her.  _C.C._   _or Saber. Either works._

However, his initial thought that the traumatic death of his mother had been the reason for her sympathy had been wrong. Her callous remark about the incident proved that. "At least your sister didn't die." He had glared at her with the utmost ferocity but she calmly regarded him as if he were a child having a tantrum.

It could be anxieties concerning the Holy Grail War. He can't imagine why though. She seemed even more confident than he did.  _I assure you, we will win._ She certainly seemed powerful enough to carry out that promise. Her victory over Archer proved that. Not to mention how she had obliterated Rider upon her summoning. Despite her complaints, she managed his "insufficient" amount of mana fairly well.

So that could only mean she was thinking about him. But why? Why would a pragmatic heroine of old like her waste energy worrying about him? 

Her looks angered him at first because he assumed she was patronizing him. However, after a few nights of seeing C.C.'s nightmarish memories play before him when he dreamt, he realized what she wanted to say:  _You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into._

Some part of him had a feeling she knew exactly what he had been dragged into and she didn't want him to suffer the way she had. Her look conveyed a sentiment far too out of character for her: _You didn't ask for this_ _but I promise to protect you._ While the sentiment seemed out of place for her, he couldn't help but feel safer. Before he even stopped to think about what he was doing, he leaned toward her. He was surprised when she actually allowed him to sit up and wrap his arms around her. Based on her wide eyes, he assumed that he caught her off guard. If this were any other moment, he would have smirked at the fact that he managed to shock the ever-arrogant C.C.

Somehow, the feeling of her against him seemed familiar. _Why though?_  C.C. must have thought so as well since she relaxed a bit before she tensed up. She stiffly but gently pushed him down against the bed again. He could no longer read her eyes. They were blank slates.

Silently, she lifted her skirts and lifted herself onto him. He had no idea when she had freed him from his trousers but she wasted no time getting started. She closed her eyes and began to move her hips. He could have sworn he saw a tear slide down her cheek but organized thought was soon lost in the throws of a pleasure he had never felt before. 

When he wakes up the next morning, he can't find her anywhere. He desperately searches the house for her but only finds a note saying "Out." He has no idea what to make of it.

 

 

A week passed until he saw her again. It was a very stressful week because he expected to be attacked whenever he left the house. Without his servant, he was little more than a sitting duck. However, to avoid arousing suspicion, he went to school as usual. The first few days passed without incident and he foolishly allowed himself to relax a little.

Naturally, that was when Assassin ambushed him. According to the brief rundown his servant had given him of the war, the Assassin class was one of the weaker classes but he shouldn't underestimate them because a servant is exponentially stronger than the _average_ human. At the time, he had been a tad peeved at her implied reminder that he was below average physical capability but at least she had told him something useful.

The enemy servant had stalked him halfway to his house before he realized something was amiss. No one else was on the street and he was getting more and more tired. Assassin must have noticed Lelouch beginning to panic and thinking him a powerful mage, made to slit his throat before Lelouch tried to fight back. In a rare show of coordination, Lelouch saw the dark shadow advancing towards him unnaturally fast in his peripheral vision and took a sharp turn into an alley. He hadn't gotten away without injury though. His shoulder stung something awful and he felt something soaking into his uniform jacket. Of course, running away had proved useless and what little mana reserves he had were depleted maintaining a servant that wasn't even here to protect him.  He was easy prey. When he stumbled to the wall of a dead end, he took some solace in the fact that he had realized the situation before he got home. At least Nunally would be okay. 

His vision was blurring and he was seeing double or maybe triple because now there were several shadowy figures slowly approaching him. They cut him various times as if playing with their prey before they put it out of its misery. They may have been saying something but he couldn't understand what. He supposed he was on his way out so it mattered little what they had to say. They were probably mocking him anyway. He was having a tough time keeping his eyes open when he suddenly felt a source of heat very close to him. He musters the heaps of energy it takes to crack open his eyelids and peak out. All he can see are the flames of hell enveloping several agonizing creatures. They jerk and thrash but the fire only grows stronger. Despite the very real wounds lining his arms, back, and legs, there isn't even the scent of burning flesh to clearly define the sight as reality or a nightmare. Perhaps if he hadn't lost so much blood, he would have been horrified by the terrifying scene but all he can do is stare unabashedly at the figure that emerges from the sea of flames and approaches him.

He must be pretty far gone because the figure appears to be an angel of death. He didn't really believe in such things as gods and whatnot before the war but with irrefutable evidence of ghosts and magic, how could he doubt their existence as well? The unnatural lighting about the angel must be her halo and the brimstone color of her eyes must be what identifies her as a death god. He numbly registers that she's saying something to him but the soft lilt of her voice lulls him into a calm. Her arms envelop him and he nearly allows himself to be taken away until he remembers his will to live. 

He struggles as much as he is able. "Wa-"  _Wait...wait! I still has so much to do!_ "Hu-" _Who will take care of Nunally if I'm gone? I needs to find out why we were exiled! "_ Nuh-" _Why can't I remember the face of the person that killed my mother when I was there when she died? Why did the emperor refuse to help my sister and I, his own children, in our hour of need? I need answers and I need to be alive to find them! "_ Mo..." He would have continued his panicked attempts to coherently voice his thoughts but the feeling of thin, long fingers wiping blood off of his face distracts him. She gently rests his head on her chest and runs her fingers through his hair. All of the pain he felt just moments ago seems to fade away as she soothes him. He leans into her as the beating of her heart calms him considerably. He remembers how tired he is. Sleep sounds more and more appealing with each comb her fingers make through his hair. His final thought before letting sleep claim him is something along the lines of  _death angels are kinder than he thought they would be._ _  
_

 

 

Though his garbled speech didn't even begin to convey his feelings at the time, the angel must have understood what he was trying to say because he awoke to a familiar ceiling. She graciously allowed him to live! In his enthusiasm, he rolled swiftly onto his stomach to check the clock and immediately regretted it. The hiss of pain he let out was interrupted by a chuckle to his left.

He leveled a harsh glare at the servant that left him to die. "Good morning to you too, sunshine." Without dignifying her with a response, he finally checked the clock and saw that it was four o'clock. On Sunday. Ah, he should get the laun-WAIT WHAT?! His gaze snapped towards C.C. and she must have been enjoying his expression because she seemed even more amused than she had previously been. 

Perhaps she was feeling particularly generous because she began to explain, "You were attacked by Assassin on Friday." His face must have showed his annoyance at her stating the obvious because she spared him more obvious drivel and moved on, "Your wounds were quite severe so they took a great deal of mana to heal. You slept an entire day to recuperate." She healed him? She must have been telling the truth because he was bandaged up like a mummy and he certainly couldn't have done that himself. 

However, her medical aid certainly didn't excuse her abandonment. He quietly hisses as harshly as he can, "Where the hell have you been all week?"

Unsurprisingly, she is unaffected and continues on as if he were a petulant child asking a stupid question, "Didn't you get my note?" He can see that she has no intention of giving a satisfactory answer any time soon and he has no energy to argue with her. He was about to lay back down and sulk when he remembered the thing that makes him the master and her the servant: command seals.

Using all the strength he could muster, he raises his right arm and begins the incantation in the most commanding tone his tired voice can manage, "I, Lelouch Vi Britannia, order servant Saber to stay by my side and show me absolute loyalty!" One of the marks on his hand glows and the red mark is swept away by wind, despite the windows being shut tight, before the light dulls to reveal a smudge. He looks to C.C. and immediately regrets using a precious command seal. He imagines a servant would be at least a bit shocked at being given an absolute order so suddenly but the amused look on her face remains steadfast if not grows even more amused. Confused and angry, he lashes out, "Why the hell are you still smirking?!"

She keeps silent and raises from the chair that she was sitting in at his bedside. She makes her way to his bedroom door and shockingly enough, thanks him. "You're ever so kind, Lelouch." What did she mean by that? He was immensely confused. So much so that all he can do is knit his brow before he notices her open the door.

He tries to shout at her to stop,"Hey!" But as expected, she leaves without paying him a glance. Unlike last time, she returns in less than five minutes. When she comes back, she carries twelve pizza boxes stacked so high he wonders how she made it up the stairs. Normally, he has no interest in junk food. Despite what his poor athletic abilities may lead others to believe. However, the strong scent of cheese and grease makes his mouth water. He didn't eat at all yesterday, right? Besides, there's no way she can eat twelve pizzas by herself! 

Oh how wrong he was. She sits down on the couch in his room and begins to dig in without even paying him a glance. He watches in abject disgust as she devours twelve pizzas in one sitting. He swore he saw her jaw unhinge like a snake at one point!

After one, he was a bit surprised at how fast she ate it. After two, he attributed it to being a servant and using a considerable amount of energy to stabilize him. After three, he was a bit shocked that she still seemed to be going strong. He progressed from shock to disgust in the following pizzas. He only lost his appetite around the eighth or ninth pizza though. When she ate the last bite and licked her fingers as if she had just eaten the finest cuisine instead of pizza from a fast food chain, all he could wonder is where she put it all. Despite her lithe frame, she packed away twelve large pizzas in under an hour.

Lelouch has a sinking feeling that she will deplete more than just his mana reserves in this war. Hopefully, they'll win the war before he goes bankrupt.


End file.
